Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.
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“It is very easy to be a military strategist, a mercenary, or a king, but much harder to be a father.”
“He sells his loyalties to the highest bidder. Shouldn’t even a mercenary have morals? That’s the textbook definition of a whore!”
“How could he possibly bow deeply enough to honor a thousand-year-old samurai queen?”
“As you can see, I’ve got legs. I can also assure you that I know how to use them. Any questions?”
“He remembered the gracefulness with which she moved in battle—like liquid flesh. There was no one quite like his wife, and he never felt more triumphant and free than when he was in her company.”
“Victory is always bittersweet.”
“Diplomacy never works.”
“The heart knows the immensity it wants to achieve, but it is limited.”
“Don’t you dare come into my world and tell me what color the ocean is! It’s black. Black as midnight. Black and awful!”
“There is magic in all life.”
“It is rooted deep in your bones; the water calls out to you until it causes you physical pain unless you come to it.”
“Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives.”